Lunacy
by CerealKillerZero
Summary: Don is attack on the night of the full moon and things get a little strange... Don/Ian
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

_"…Colby. Don't. Move." Ian cautioned in a tight voice, eyes never leaving the beast staring down the younger agent._

_Colby gulped, the whites of his eyes clearly visible, reflecting the bright moonlight filtering through the lone window of the basement they were being held captive in._

_An answering snarl came from the large animal._

_David reached an arm out quickly, pulling Colby up and away from the sharp fangs. Off balance, Colby fell back against him and they both went crashing into the walls behind them in a heap._

_The animal surged forward, teeth bared viciously._

_Ian didn't hesitate. In one quick motion, he was between the wolf and the other two agents, bracing for the jarring impact of the furred body slamming into his own and the feeling of sharp fangs tearing into his skin._

_The wolf leapt._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_One month earlier_

"Don!" Ian shouted. "Don? Where are you?"

Ian unholstered his glock and entered the warehouse at a fast pace, mentally cursing Don's impulsiveness. They didn't have enough backup for this. Or any backup at all, for that matter. No radios. No cell service. Don apparently hadn't noticed or hadn't cared and chased after their suspect anyway, straight into the one building Ian couldn't see into from his vantage point on the adjacent roof.

By the time he'd made it down to ground level, Ian had lost sight of Don and had no clue as to which direction he'd gone.

The warehouse looked abandoned. If this was where the arms deal was going down, Ian had a feeling that it had either already happened or it wasn't happening tonight. Before running of like a damn fool, Don had signaled he had clear eyes on Jason Renner, a weapons dealer wanted for brutal murders committed in three different states. Ian had been tracking him for months.

And now Don was somewhere in the large warehouse with him, without backup and with no way of telling anyone his precise location.

When Ian found him, he was going to kill Don himself.

Suddenly a loud shout of "FBI! FREEZE!" could be heard in the distance. _Don._

Quickly following was a pained yelp and two swift gunshots.

Then silence.

Ian ran dead out towards the sound. "DON!"

He eventually came upon a door leading into an office. The first thing he saw was blood coating the corner of the large wooden desk.

He stepped further into the room and saw the source - Don's still form lying in a pool of blood.

Ian's heart lurched. He quickly surged forward, kneeling down next to Don. He could see a gash in Don's forehead – likely what caught the edge of the desk, but in the low lighting he couldn't make out an injury that would have caused so much bloodshed.

He began trailing fingers over Don's still form, trying to find the injury. When his hand made contact with Don left bicep, a loud groan told him he'd found it.

"Ughhh. Wha-" Don muttered, clearly dazed and confused either from the head wound or the blood loss.

"Shut up," Ian snapped, suddenly pissed off. Don had looked dead before and it was his own stupid fault for charging in so recklessly when they had no idea who was aroun- Wait. "Don? Where did Renner go? Is there anyone else here?"

Don's eyes sluggishly met Ian's. "Thought I wasn' s'posed t'talk"

Ian growled in frustration, ripping off his jacket and wrapping it tightly around Don's injured arm, pointedly ignoring the loud hiss of pain Don released. "C'mon. We've got to get out of here. You've probably got a concussion," Ian said gruffly, hauling Don to his feet.

They made it back out to Don's SUV without running into anyone else, Ian half carrying, half dragging a severely wounded Don for most of the way. Once Don was securely in the passenger seat, Ian hopped in the driver's side and pulled his jacket away to get a better look at Don's arm.

He gaped in horror looking at the mangled mass of bloody flesh. He could even see bone peaking out of the wound. "Oh my God Don! What did he do to you?" Ian cried, retying the jacket around the gaping hole and quickly starting the car.

"Wha?" came Don's sluggish reply. " 'M fine, Ian. Jus' wan go home."

Ian glanced over in incredulous horror as he flipped on the emergency lights, but Don was already slumped over, passed out against the door.

They made it to the emergency room downtown in minutes, though it felt like hours to Ian, who was muttering to himself the entire way.

"He's gonna be fine. It can't be as bad as it looks. They won't let him lose the arm. It's going to be okay. It's fine. It's fine."

He didn't believe it for a second though. Wounds that big and that deep were highly prone to infection. Especially when obtained in a grimy environment like Don had. Ian had seen it hundreds of times in Afghanistan. You go in to a hospital with a mangled limb like that and nine times out of ten, by the time you woke up – if you woke up at all – you had a stump where your arm used to be.

Don would lose his career. Maybe even his life.

Ian didn't know what he'd do without him.

He spent the hour after two of the ER medics pulled Don out of his grasp and onto a hospital bed decidedly not thinking about it.

He was so lost in his personal nightmare, he didn't even think of calling in to the office and letting Don's team know what happened. He didn't remember to call Charlie or Alan either. He just waited, sitting in a hard plastic chair, staring into space until a nurse abruptly jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Sir…? Sir?"

"Huh?" Ian eyed the white shoes in front of him, eyes drifting upwards to pink scrubs, before finally focusing on bright blue eyes peering out at him from behind round glasses.

Seeing she finally had his attention, the young nurse beamed. "Sir? Are you here with Mister Eppes? You can come back now. He's almost ready to be released."

"Released?" Ian gaped at her.

The nurse nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. The doctor said as long as he wasn't going to be alone over night he'd be cleared for discharge." She spun on her heel, not waiting for Ian to comment further.

Ian followed behind her dumbly, not comprehending anything she'd said. He knew there had to be some kind of mistake. People didn't just go home for the night after sustaining an injury like that. It just didn't happen.

But when the nurse pulled back the curtain around one of the beds in the back of the ER, there was Don, sitting up and smiling, chatting with a man in a white coat, presumably the doctor.

Ian could only stare, and then he swiftly moved forward, enveloping Don in a tight hug.

"Hey…" Don said softly, bewilderment clear in his tone. "I told you, I was fine."

Ian pulled back, eyeing Don suspiciously for a few seconds, before summarily dismissing his words and leveling his best 'don't fuck with me' glare at the doctor.

The good doctor took an unconscious step back before clearing his throat and gently contradicting Don's words. "I wouldn't say 'fine' exactly. Don sustained a grade three concussion. He should be monitored closely for the next 48 hours for any changes in orientation or alertness, nausea, severe headaches, or altered vision. Additionally, his temperature is slightly elevated. If it continues to rise, then the cut is probably infected. I'm putting Don on a low-grade antibiotic, just in case. I trust you will be the one monitoring him?"

Ian nodded dumbly, accepting the script the doctor handed to him. "What about his arm?"

The doctor looked puzzled for a moment, before his expression cleared. "Oh! That. There was substantially less damage than the blood originally indicated. I didn't even need to stitch it."

Ian frowned. That just wasn't possible. He had seen bone. _Bone._

"Just flesh wound, babe." Don said with a wink. "Blood must have been Renner's. I got a couple of shots off after all, didn't I? Must have gotten lucky with one of them."

Ian flashed him a skeptical look. If it had been Renner's, there would have been a blood trail. Not just a neat pool beneath Don's lifeless body. Ian shook his head to clear the gruesome image.

"Agent Eppes, if it's possible that it was another person's blood, we'll also run some blood tests to make sure you haven't inadvertently contracted an infection," the doctor informed pointedly.

And it was a sad state of affairs that the doctor speak for 'We're going to do a blood test to make sure the scum of the earth low-life that you were chasing down didn't give you HIV,' was the first thing anyone had said since he'd walked in the room that made sense to Ian. He shook his head tiredly. "Can I take him home then?"

"Of course," the doctor replied. "Nurse Amy will see you out."

The beaming nurse motioned for Don to take a seat in the wheelchair she brought over. Don grumbled a bit, but eventually relented and allowed the small woman to push him to the exit. Ian jogged ahead to retrieve Don's SUV from the parking lot, grateful to be leaving the hospital, but still thoroughly confused by what had transpired.

He knew what he saw. He wasn't some green agent that lost it over the sight of blood and he'd done triage enough to know when a wound was serious.

Something strange was going on, he was sure of it.

But driving over to the double doors of the ER entrance where Don was standing and waiting for him? So much better than sitting in a hard plastic chair for days on end, wondering how the love of his life was going to cope with the loss of an arm.

Maybe for once, he should just accept the mystery for what it was.

A miracle.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to my readers and anyone who gave feedback on the last chapter, I really appreciate it. No specific warnings for this chapter. Don wakes up feeling better than expected and Charlie gets frustrated with the case.

* * *

><p><em>Drip ... Drip ... Drip ... Drip ...<em>

Don woke abruptly, completely aware in an instant. It was still fairly dim out, no later than about five thirty. Ian's body was a solid presence next to him, spread out flat on his stomach, breathing steady. Still asleep. It wasn't a surprise, except for the fact that Don could count on one hand the number of times he'd woken up before Ian and they'd been sleeping together for nearly a year. Then again, they hadn't left the ER until half-past one, so it was only natural for Ian to still be asleep.

Don on the other hand was wide-awake.

And what was that dripping sound?

He scrubbed a hand across his face and carefully sat up on the mattress, completely surprised when his head didn't immediately start to throb in response.

Clearly the doc had made a mistake calling his injury a grade III concussion. This was like no concussion Don had ever felt before. Hell, Don had experienced worse tension headaches after a long day at work.

He got up slowly, trying not to wake Ian, and made his way towards the bathroom. When he looked into the mirror, the white bandaging covering his forehead and left arm stuck out in sharp contrast against his lightly tanned skin.

What a mess.

Don knew he made a dumb move the night before. He shouldn't have ever dragged Ian out to that warehouse on a stupid hunch. Even if he had been right. Renner did show after all. Going there without at least the rest of his team had been quite foolish. Someone could have been seriously hurt. Jason Renner didn't just kill his victims, some he brutalized in the most gruesome fashion Don had ever seen.

Don was seriously lucky to have escaped with only the minor injuries that he'd sustained.

Which is why Don had been absolutely baffled when Ian hadn't called him on it the night before. Ian had acted downright strange. He'd stopped at the drugstore and filled Don's prescriptions without so much as a word. When they got back to the apartment, other than eyeing the bandaging on Don's arm suspiciously, he acted like nothing had even happened.

It wasn't like the sniper at all.

Don could clearly remember when he first met Ian at Quantico. The man had been in charge of teaching basic weapons safety to the new recruits. At least, until he made four new recruits cry – two of them former Spec Ops soldiers. The man had a temper and an almost fanatic vendetta against 'pulling stupid stunts that will get you and whatever unfortunate soul you are partnered with killed.'

Last night, Don had been ready for the riot act.

What he got instead was a slow kiss and a muttered reminder to take one of his painkillers if his head started hurting. Don felt like he'd walked into some kind of alternate reality. He wondered if he should call up his dad and see if Alan had suddenly decided to join the N.R.A.

_Drip ... Drip ..._

And seriously, what was that dripping noise?

Don growled, eyeing the sink and the shower suspiciously. Both were drip free. He wandered out of the bathroom, making his way towards the kitchen to check on the faucet there. No dice. However, there was a large steak in the freezer that was calling Don's name. He took a look out the window after check the fridge for useful ingredients. The sun was just starting to rise. Plenty of time to make breakfast.

Wait a minute.

There.

Right outside the kitchen window, the gutter pipe was loose and dripping water onto the sill.

_Drip ... Drip ... Drip ..._

Mystery solved.

And not once while he was cooking did Don stop to realize that he shouldn't have been able to hear those water drops falling from inside of his apartment. Let alone have that noise be enough to wake him out of a dead sleep.

xxxx

That morning Don wasn't the only Eppes awake bright and early. Charlie was up and pacing the garage, case files spread out around him, trying to puzzle out the seemingly random acts of violence and cruelty Jason Renner had perpetrated in the last several months.

He was all over the map. A relatively small time arms dealer suddenly going on a homicidal killing spree? And the victims made no sense. Some old, some young. Some clearly connected to the weapons industry, others as random as if he'd picked them out of a telephone book.

He'd make clean cut business deals on a Tuesday, horrifically murder three seemingly innocent people on a Sunday, and then the next Thursday, shoot a man in the back cold as can be.

It made no sense.

But Charlie knew one thing as surely as he knew his own name. Maybe even better. Nothing was truly random. Everything had a logical explanation. He just had to figure out Renner's logic. Then he could find the pattern. He could solve this case.

He just needed more data.


	3. Chapter 3

Ian woke to the blaring noise of an alarm clock.

He blindly reached for the annoying object, squinting against the morning light. Fumbling once, twice, before finally a satisfying crunch left him in blessed silence once more. He rolled back over, reaching for the warm body on the other side of the bed, jerking up quickly when his hand came in contact with nothing but cool sheets.

"Don?" he called out.

"Mornin' Sunshine," Don returned cheerfully, returning to the bedroom with a wide grin. "Hope you're hungry. I made breakfast."

Ian eyed him skeptically from his comfortable position on the bed. "How many of those pills did you take this morning?"

"I didn't take any." Don replied with a frown. "I told you last night. I feel fine. That doctor didn't know what he was talking about, Ian. I doubt I even had a mild concussion."

Ian's mouth thinned into a line. There was no way Don wasn't hurting. Even if he'd been wrong about the arm, there was no way that head wound was some kind of mistake as well. Maybe Don was delirious. The doc had mentioned a risk of infection… "Don. Come over here." Ian instructed tiredly.

Don grinned mischievously, before pouncing.

Ian let out an 'oomph' of surprise when he suddenly had a lap full of enthusiastic federal agent.

"Hi" Don said.

Ian looked into his eyes. He didn't look feverish. "You're really hot."

"And you're really sexy," Don returned, pulling Ian close and capturing his lips.

Ian struggled against the hold for a moment before relenting, allowing Don's probing tongue entrance to his mouth and relaxing fully into the kiss. He'd let Don have his way. For now.

Sensing the subtle victory, Don let loose a little possessive growl and gripped Ian even tighter.

Ian couldn't help the tiny shudder that went through his body at the sound. It reminded him of Don in full Tac gear, barking out orders and taking charge, and also of the rare times when Don decided he wanted to be the boss at home too. In Ian's book, a take-charge Don was never a bad thing.

Except for maybe right now.

When clearly Don had other things on the brain than taking the antibiotics that the doc made clear he needed.

Reluctantly, Ian pulled back. "That wasn't quite what I meant."

Don pouted.

Ian rolled his eyes. "You know you're attractive, idiot. Do you also realize you have a fever?"

"I feel fine, Ian." Don said flatly, irritation starting to show through. "Why won't you let this go?"

"Maybe because you could have died last night and you're treating it like it's some kind of joke?" Ian snapped back, giving Don a little shove so he could get up.

Don scrambled up off the bed, suddenly furious. "Stop being so fucking self-righteous. I screwed up. I get it. I thought maybe you were going to pull this act last night, but no. You want to drag it out now? When it's over? When I'm fine? Get the hell over it. I'm not some dumb kid."

"You're sure acting like it," Ian muttered, moving past Don towards the closet.

Don grabbed him by the arm as he passed. "What did you just say to me?" he questioned, voice low and dangerous.

Ian just stared back blankly, holding Don's gaze for several long moments before pointedly glancing down at his arm where skin right around Don's fingers was turning white and bloodless. "Let me go."

Don winced at the frost in his voice. He couldn't quite understand how they'd gone from making out on the bed to some kind of standoff, but he knew needed to back down before one of them said something they'd really regret. He dropped his hand, running the other through his short hair. "Look… I'm sorry. I just… I screwed up, okay? But I'm fine. You're fine. Let's just talk about something else, okay?"

Ian studied him closely before nodding his assent.

"So what did you make me for breakfast?"

Don grinned. "Steak and eggs. Lots."

"Heart attack on a plate." Ian commented wryly. "Think you can find any cheese to go on top?" he added, voice filled with sarcasm.

"Ooh, I hadn't thought about that." Don headed back towards the kitchen.

Ian rolled his eyes, continuing towards the closet. He called over his shoulder "And Don? I don't care how good you're feeling, take the damn antibiotics!"

"Okay, Mother!"

Ian sighed in exasperation. Some days he didn't know why he bothered even trying to be nice. Clearly he just wasn't any good at it.

He pulled out clean clothes and dressed before heading to the kitchen, astonished by the sight in front of him. When Don said he cooked, Ian didn't think he meant that he cooked every damn thing they had in the apartment that was edible, and maybe some things that weren't.

"Jesus Don, you inviting a battalion over for breakfast?" Ian questioned.

Don shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"I can see that." Ian commented, stomach turning slightly as he watched Don shovel down food with a zeal he hadn't seen since his days in the Corps. Ian was really more of a bran muffin and coffee kind of guy anyway.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Don questioned with his mouth full.

Ian made a beeline for the coffee pot. "I think I'll pass for now."

Don looked confused for all of a second, before shrugging and continued to devour breakfast foods at an alarming rate.

Ian lingered in the kitchen only long enough to fix a second cup of coffee before deciding to call into the office from the other room. Even if Don was 'fine,' Ian was still going to do his best to keep Don home from work for the day.

Of course Don would argue that he wasn't hurt at all. Then Ian would talk him down to just doing a half-day, which is precisely why when he called in he told David to expect them both around noon.


	4. Chapter 4

David put down the phone, staring at the receiver contemplatively.

"What's up?" Megan asked, plopping down into her swivel chair.

David turned to face her. "Don had a hunch about that warehouse Renner was making phone calls from. He and Ian went over last night to check it out."

"Any luck?" Megan asked.

"Ian said they got separated. Don got a bead on Renner, chased him down, and by the time Ian caught up, Don was out cold in a pool of blood and Renner was in the wind." David replied.

"Is Don okay?"

David shrugged. "Ian said they stopped at the ER last night, but Don's thick skull and massive ego absorbed most of the impact."

Megan arched a brow, "So the doctor likely wants Don on light duty for a week. Edgerton wants him to take the day off. And Don would have been here twenty minutes ago. So we should expect them both in here around noon snipping at each other?"

"Probably," David replied with an easy grin.

Megan shook her head. "Great. Maybe in the meantime you and Colby could go down to that warehouse and see if you can drum up some new leads in the daylight."

David nodded his assent, motioning to Colby, who was fixing coffee in the break room. "And I guess you're heading to CalSci?"

Megan shrugged. "It seems to be the best place to head when we're fresh out of leads and other ideas…"

"Hey, you'll get no arguments from me." David said.

Colby approached. "What's up?"

"Bossman took a head shot last night. We're going to go see if Renner left anything at the scene other than a pool of Don's blood." David filled in. He tossed Colby the keys, taking advantage of his stunned expression. "You're driving."

xxxx

Megan approached Charlie's office with a mild sense of trepidation. One never knew what kind of strange experiment Charlie would be working on at any given time, or how likely said experiment was of blowing up on whatever random person happened to cross his threshold.

She knocked once, then entered, surprised by the relative calm in the office.

Charlie wasn't even working on an equation. He was just sitting at his desk, staring off into the distance.

Megan frowned. She could already tell Charlie wasn't going to have some kind of miraculous revelation waiting for her this time. "Hey Charlie."

"Megan!" Charlie started. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I guess I should have knocked louder." Megan returned. "It take you haven't found anything? It looked like you were trying to perfect your brother's infamous brood there."

That got a smile. "Nothing yet. There is definitely a cycling pattern to the crimes committed, but I can't quite figure out what the trigger is. How about on your end? Any new evidence?"

Megan shook her head. "We might have more once David and Colby get done in the warehouse where Don was attacked last night, but-"

"Wait. Don was attacked?" Charlie asked, voice panicky.

Megan backtracked swiftly. Of course Don didn't bother telling his brother he was in the hospital. "He's fine Charlie. He got checked out at the ER last night. They didn't even keep him overnight."

Charlie still looked concerned.

Megan knew she needed to distract him. "You know, it's funny they ended up in the ER last night. They say it's the worse time to be there."

"What, spring?" Charlie asked.

"No, the night of the full moon. They say that it brings out the crazies. It's where the term 'lunacy' comes from. Think there are any statistics about that one?" Megan questioned.

"You know, there actually is a fair amount of researcher involving the-" Charlie stopped suddenly, hurrying to his computer. He typed furiously, then snatched up a notebook off his desk, looking back and forth between the two. "Megan! I've got it. The pattern. It's the lunar calendar!"

"What?"

"All of his most vicious crimes coincide with the full moon!" Charlie explained excitedly. Then suddenly his expression dimmed. "Megan… That means…"

Megan's cell phone rang. "Reeves"

Colby was on the other line. "Megan. We're at the warehouse. Two more bodies. M.E. says they probably died some time around ten last night. David thinks its possible Don got there right after Renner murdered these two girls.

There was only one thing Megan could say to that. "Damn."


End file.
